


tea, cigarettes, and whiskey

by jortsten



Category: Secret History - Donna Tartt
Genre: Anal Sex, Bath Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Richard, Canon Compliant, M/M, Porn With Plot, Top Francis, after bunny died, francis didnt even say it but in this universe he did, its based on one line, maybe i shouldnt tag this canon compliant, richard just doesnt wanna be alone, richard kinner author, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 07:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30052227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jortsten/pseuds/jortsten
Summary: “To be honest with you, I’m going to take a bath and go to bed,” Francis said. Richard hardly thought before saying, “Can I come?” The implication was something Richard realized after he’d said it, and while otherwise he would never willingly invite himself into something like that, it sounded far better than anything he could do alone in his room.
Relationships: Francis Abernathy/Richard Papen
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	tea, cigarettes, and whiskey

**Author's Note:**

> on page 281 when richard calls francis after they kill bunny bc he's lonely he talks to henry and henry says hes gonna take a bath and go to bed but i thought francis said that and wanted to write a fic for it and decided to anyway. will i write a sister fic where it's actually henry? who's to say. anyway. hope u like it
> 
> s/o to my friend for helping me w the physics of bath sex and also helping me name it

Killing Bunny was wholly isolating, and Richard thought he might never have felt so alone as he did after, might never feel so alone again.

He wasn’t supposed to see any of the others. It would be suspicious, apparently. Richard didn’t really see the point, and he also felt like he was going insane. Just sitting in his room had left him stir-crazy, looking for something,  _ anything  _ to do. He felt suffocated. Nothing was holding his attention for very long, and he wasn’t sure if he really wanted it to anyway. What he wanted was to see someone, do something that wasn’t just sitting around with the thought of what he’d been accomplice to bouncing around his otherwise empty head.

He called Francis.

Francis answered almost immediately. He sounded tired. Richard said who he was, asked what Francis was doing. Henry was with him, Richard could hear his voice in the background. They were having drinks, is what Francis said. Richard wondered why it was okay for them to be together, and not him. He asked if he could join them, and Francis said, lowly, that it wasn’t a good idea, and that Henry was leaving in a minute anyway.

“Well, what are you going to do?” Richard asked, hoping maybe it was something that could involve him.

“To be honest with you, I’m going to take a bath and go to bed,” Francis said.

Richard hardly thought before saying, “Can I come?” The implication was something Richard realized after he’d said it, and while otherwise he would never willingly invite himself into something like that, it sounded far better than anything he could do alone in his room.

“Richard,” Francis said, almost a whisper. His tone was sharp, and sounded like a warning.

“Please,” Richard said, desperate, “I don’t know what else to do.”

The line went silent for a few seconds. Richard feared, briefly, that Francis had left, maybe was putting Henry on the line to deal with him. But then, Francis’s voice came back, still very low. “Okay,” he said, and relief washed over Richard. “Okay,” he said again, but this time it sounded more like he was saying it to himself. And then Francis hung up.

Not exactly where he thought the rest of this day would go. Anything sounded better than this, though. And it was… it was just Francis. There was hardly anything to worry about.

Francis had said Henry was leaving in a few minutes, which meant he’d likely be gone by the time it took Richard to walk there. He grabbed his coat, slipped on some shoes, and headed out.

He tried not to think too hard on the way, really, but he couldn’t help it. He was consumed by thoughts of Bunny, the look on his face when he went over, disbelieving anything was actually happening to him. It felt like Bunny was still alive, that when Richard got back he might find Bunny lounging in his room, hiding from Marion or just looking for drunk company. 

Before he knew it, Richard was standing in Francis’s doorway, ready to knock, without a single memory of the commute he took to get there. He set his knuckles against the door, twice, and waited.

Francis opened the door in nothing but a bathrobe, it seemed, and he wordlessly led Richard inside. He went into the kitchen, and started filling a glass that looked like it had already been used with whiskey.

“Do you want one?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Richard said. 

Francis poured some into another seemingly already used glass--maybe Henry’s? Richard took it when Francis offered it to him and took a sip. He felt better already.

“Just to be clear,” Francis said after sipping his own drink, “you asked to come over here so I can fuck you?”

“Yeah,” Richard said coolly. Maybe it should’ve been a bigger deal to him than it was, but it sort of felt like nothing mattered in that moment. 

“Well the bath is waiting, so.” Francis and his drink went down the hall and into the bathroom, and Richard assumed he should follow. He downed the rest of his own drink and set the glass back on the counter, and went after Francis.

He was naked and stepping into the bath when Richard turned into the bathroom, bathrobe hung on a hook on the door and whiskey still in hand. 

“Can’t take a bath with your clothes on, Richard,” Francis said, slinking all the way into the water. 

Richard said nothing in reply, just started stripping. When he was done and looked back up, Francis was staring at him. 

“You look good,” he said, casually. Like this was something they’d done before. Something they’d do again.

Richard thought maybe he should say ‘thanks’ or something, but it didn’t feel right, so he didn’t.

“Well, are you gonna get in?” Francis took a drink and set the glass down on the side of the tub. His gaze was expectant.

Richard didn’t know how the bath configuration was going to work and decided Francis could figure it out, and just sat himself on the other side of the tub. The water was burning hot, and smooth. Bath oils, or something. Smelled like eucalyptus.

Francis slid his hand under the water and set it on Richard’s leg. “You’ve only been with girls before,” he observed.

“Yeah,” Richard said, even though it didn’t necessarily warrant a response. It felt like a question.

“It’s fun,” he said, rubbing slow circles on Richard’s leg with his thumb, “with guys. Promise.” 

Richard just nodded. Francis adjusted, surprisingly elegantly for how little space they had in the tub, and set himself down on Richard’s thighs, straddling him. He leaned in, slowly, and kissed Richard.

He tasted like tea and cigarettes, and whiskey, and kissing him felt more rough than kissing a girl. He was gentle--not careful, but… patient. He set his hand lightly on Richard’s neck, cupping his jaw a little. Richard kissed him back. It wasn’t long before Francis decided to move down to kiss his neck instead, and Richard kept his eyes closed, took a deep breath. 

He could feel Francis against him, already half hard and slowly rutting on Richard’s legs. Richard could feel himself getting hard as well. The hand of Francis’s that wasn’t still on his neck found his side, dragged across his abdomen and up on his chest, and Francis rolled his thumb over Richard’s nipple. He exhaled a shaky breath with a sound that was something like a whimper. He couldn’t remember ever being touched like that before.

“Sensitive,” Francis said, and Richard could feel him smiling against his skin. Francis did it again, and Richard rolled his hips up to meet Francis’s, and they both let out quiet little moans.

“Francis,” Richard said breathlessly, and Francis harshly sucked his skin into his mouth. Richard made a sound at that, too. He was certain he’d never been this vocal with anyone before.

Francis moved his hand down and wrapped it around Richard’s dick, and Richard’s breath hitched. He moved his own hands, finally, to hold onto Francis. Francis let off the skin on his neck, and Richard let his head fall forward, forehead resting on Francis’s shoulder. He was breathing heavily, and realized with the rise and fall of Francis’s shoulders, that he was too.

Francis started moving his hand on Richard, and it felt too much and not enough. Still, his hands squeezed on Francis’s sides, and he made a little sound when Francis thumbed the tip.

“Enjoying yourself?” Francis asked genuinely, and Richard nodded as best he could with his head still on Francis's shoulder. “It gets better, if you want it to.”

“Yes,” Richard said, mostly knowing what Francis meant and being a little afraid of it but also wanting, desperately,  _ more. _

He could practically feel Francis smile. Francis let go of Richard, and then he was moving and Richard had to take his head off his shoulder. Francis was leaning over and reaching into the cabinet drawer next to the bathtub, and he came back with a small bottle. Lube, Richard knew.

“Will that work in the water?” Richard asked, wondering also if they actually needed it in the water, but trusting Francis enough not to ask that.

“Silicone,” Francis said. Richard didn’t quite understand, but pretended that he did.

Francis sat back where he started, at the other end of the tub, and motioned for Richard to come over to him. Richard did, basically just reversing their positions. 

“Closer,” Francis said, and Richard moved closer, his dick now happily squeezed between their stomachs. Francis was slicking his fingers up with lube to one side, and Richard watched curiously. He had some, but very little idea about what was going to happen now, but he wanted all of it, that he was sure of. And besides,  _ it’s just Francis,  _ and Francis knew what he was doing.

“Lean forward,” Francis instructed, and Richard did. He grabbed Francis’s sides again, giving his hands somewhere to go, and leaned his whole upper body more into Francis. His head, naturally, went back on Francis’s shoulder. This time, though, he started kissing the skin under his mouth. 

He felt Francis reach his arm around him, and then a strange sensation he’d never felt before--Francis’s finger running slick circles against his hole. It was oddly sensitive, but it felt nice. It made his dick twitch, and Francis definitely also felt that. When Francis pushed his finger in, slowly, Richard jolted a little bit, the feeling startling, but not at all bad.

“Okay?” Francis asked. 

“Yeah,” Richard said, “keep going.”

Francis took his time with this, keeping it at a single finger for a while, gently pushing it in and out, working it in slow, smooth circles, Richard guessed to stretch him out.

The second finger was tight, but the pain was slight and bearable and didn’t last long. Same with the third finger, but by then Richard was so turned on and his dick ached so bad he hardly noticed the pain of the finger. 

He was breathless on Francis’s shoulders, still absentmindedly mouthing at him there. 

“Francis,  _ more,  _ please,” he begged, and pushed his ass back on Francis’s fingers, pushing them in further. 

Francis laughed. “Needy,” he commented, lighthearted and sounding like he couldn’t care less that Richard had asked for more, needed more. 

He pulled his fingers out then, which was the opposite of what Richard had asked, and he couldn't help but whine a little. Francis’s hands were on his shoulders then, gently pushing him off Francis’s shoulder, and Richard went along with it and sat up straight again. 

Francis was looking at him with a devious expression, and he said, “I’m going to fuck you now.”

Richard sighed, nervous and excited and ready. He nodded, and Francis took his own dick in one hand and set the other on Richard’s hip, guiding him. Richard lowered himself, carefully, down onto Francis, and he was a little thicker than the three of his fingers so the stretch was back, but Richard felt so many things at once he hardly registered it. Francis moved his hand out of the way so Richard could take all of him, and laced his hand through Richard’s hair, which was short, but long enough to grab onto, it seemed. 

Richard felt… full, mostly. He didn’t know how else to describe it. He thought, for a second, that he could easily get addicted to the feeling. 

“Can you move?” Francis asked, bringing Richard out of his own thoughts.

He tried, lifting himself up slightly on his knees, and then settling back down. The feeling was a lot. Richard wanted more.

“Good,” Francis said. “Again.”

Richard did as he was told, and this time, he kept going, keeping a slow but steady up-and-down rhythm. The water splashed gently around them. Francis used his grip on Richard’s hair to bring him in for a kiss, to which Richard went willingly. It was open-mouthed, faster and more needy than when they kissed earlier. On a particular down motion, Francis bucked his hips up to meet Richard’s, and Richard moaned loudly into Francis’s mouth. 

“Do that again,” Richard asked breathlessly, and Francis did. Every time, it was shocking and incredible all over again, and Richard thought this was physically different, something must have changed inside for it to feel so much better. He didn’t know what.

After a while, Francis shifted, sliding a little further into the tub and planting his feet on the bottom, knees up, so he was at more of an angle. The first thrust in that new position had Richard seeing stars, and if he wasn’t sure Francis knew what he was doing before, he was absolutely positive now. He moaned, louder than he thought he’d ever moaned before, and pressed his head back into the crook of Francis’s neck.

“Fuck,” Francis said, breathless, and Richard could hear his smile. Richard nodded his assent, or tried to anyway, a bit too distracted to be successful. 

Francis kept going, fucking pounding Richard, and Richard gave up any movements of his own. 

They kept going like that, and eventually it came to a point where it was so much, Richard felt like it was  _ too _ much, but he hadn’t even come yet. 

“Francis,” he said, breathlessly, almost in pain.

‘Yes?” Francis replied, also breathlessly, in between thrusts, which were becoming more erratic.

“It’s-” he grunted, “-it’s too much, I--”

“Can I come inside you?” Francis said this quickly, like it was the most urgent and pressing matter in the world, and Richard considered that for him, right now, it probably was. 

It did seem appealing, though Richard couldn’t really discern whether that was because it meant this feeling would stop soon or if because he  _ wanted _ Francis to come inside him, but he didn’t have to think about that. He nodded and said a somewhat broken, “Yes.”

Francis gave a few more thrusts in quick succession, making Richard shudder, before stilling buried deep in Richard and releasing. He could feel it inside of him, warm and even more full than he had been. It was, perhaps, a bit of a relaxant. 

Then they were both still, breathing heavy and in silence. 

“You felt so good,” Francis said, and it managed to sound personal and completely impersonal at the same time. Richard met his eyes, and realized he’d been staring blankly at Francis’s face this whole time. He watched Francis’s eyes as they looked down, presumably at Richard’s red, weeping dick and then look back up again. “Too much, huh?”

Richard nodded.

“Happens sometimes. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He sounded confident in his ability to satisfy Richard, and Richard knew there was likely good reason to be.

Francis set his hands on Richard’s hip, and it took him a minute to understand the intent: to lift him up so Francis could pull out. He sat up on his knees, still spread around Francis’s midsection, and could feel the swift slide out of him, the drip that followed. He shuddered again as Francis exited him, and then felt empty and better. 

“Here,” Francis said, and patted the side of the tub next to him, “take a seat.”

“On the side of the tub?”

“Yes,” Francis said.

“Why?”

“So I can blow you.”

Richard registered that very slowly, and then all at once. “That can’t be the most effective position for a blowjob,”

Francis smirked. “We do what we have to do, Rich.”

Richard sighed, but stood on his shaky legs and sat himself on the side of the tub anyway, his dick standing out in front of him, in front of Francis.

Francis sidled up to it, right at eye level, and dragged a finger very softly from the base to the tip, letting it bounce when he let go. It felt good again, and Richard remembered then that his dick hadn’t been touched since before Francis was inside him. Maybe that had something to do with the overstimulation.

Francis kept going with feather-light touches, and Richard closed his eyes, just letting himself feel pleasure. He opened them again when he felt something wet, to find that Francis had set him gently on his tongue. The sight of him there before him, his dick resting on his tongue, Francis looking perfectly content to be exactly there… it did something to him, though he would not admit or unpack what.

Then Francis closed his mouth, slowly, licking around him. It was almost overwhelming again, but in a good way this time, Richard thought. 

The buildup to Richard’s orgasm was so fast it was almost unnoticeable, and he barely had any time to warn Francis of his nearing the edge before he fell over it, shooting into Francis’s mouth.

He  _ did _ warn Francis, though, who had just kept going like he hadn’t heard. Richard briefly wondered if he hadn’t heard, or maybe if he hadn’t actually said anything and just thought he did, but he was sure he said it, and loud enough there was no way Francis could miss it.

Richard didn’t know what to do with the fact that Francis just swallowed his cum.

Francis licked his lips, and Richard didn’t know what to do with that, either. Probably not admit that he liked it.

“Well,” Francis said. Richard nodded absentmindedly. It was just hitting him, what they did. He had sex with Francis.  _ He had sex with Francis.  _ And Bunny was dead. Would anything go back to normal after this?

“This was fun,” Francis said. Richard nodded again.

“Bunny is dead,” Richard said.

“Yes, and this was supposed to take your mind off of that.” Francis leaned back in the tub again, like nothing had just happened, and grabbed his glass from where it was sitting next to Richard’s bare thigh. “I would offer round two, but Henry’s probably right. We shouldn’t be together for long right now. You should go.”

Richard nodded, stood, looked around helplessly for a towel.

“In the cabinet under the sink,” Francis finally said.

Richard found a towel there, dried himself off, and slowly put his clothes back on. He felt cold.

As he started to walk out, Francis called out to him: “Richard.” He turned back to look at Francis. “Are you okay?” He seemed genuinely concerned.

Richard didn’t say anything in response, but the look on his face must’ve been enough. Francis understood, he thought. 

He expected Francis to say something coy before he walked out entirely, maybe suggest they should do it again, but there was nothing. Just silence, and then the click of the bathroom door latch as it closed.

Leaving Francis’s, Richard’s ass was starting to get sore and his dick was still sensitive in his pants and his heart still hurt over Bunny, but caught in the equilibrium between those things, his mind was achingly quiet, at least for the time being.


End file.
